Leigh Riker

If I Loved You


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be seen, praying the woman would leave him in peace. Still, it wasn’t Molly’s place to turn him in. And if she got the chance, she had something in mind for their visitor that might help Brig.

      “Pop isn’t available right now. Can I do anything for you?”

      Natalie Brewster’s face fell. “I had something to ask him. I’ll come back later.”

      Another swift look at the nearby kitchen told Molly their new neighbor didn’t believe her for a second, and a twinge of guilt ran through her.

      “Hmm,” Natalie said, bright blue eye shadow shimmering in the light. “I hope he doesn’t think he can avoid me forever. I need his help. I’m chairman of the rummage sale we’re having soon at the community center.” She refocused her gaze on Molly. “If you have anything to donate...”

      “Let me check my day care. See what I can find.” Molly tilted her head toward the backyard. “I might have some unclaimed lost items there that could be donated now, and a used baby crib or high chair that we’ve recently replaced, some toys...”

      “We’d appreciate that. You can have Thomas drop them off. I bet he’s a crack painter and in no time could turn that crib into something that appears brand-new.” She turned to go, then whirled back, purple sequins sparkling. One manicured hand with Day-Glo green-painted nails waved in the air inches from Molly’s face. “You at least must have seen me ringing the bell next door.”

      Pop, Molly thought, had fooled no one with his disappearing act. Still, she almost felt sorry for him. Natalie couldn’t have been more different from Molly’s mother if she tried. Her dad just didn’t know how to cope.

      Molly glanced toward the Colliers’ house and seized the opportunity she’d been handed. “Mrs. Brewster,” she began.

      “It’s miss, honey. I never took the plunge. And call me Natalie. By the way, do you know where Joe and Bess have gone?”

      “No, I was hoping you did. Or rather, their son is. He’s been in Liberty for a few days now and expected them to be here, but they haven’t come home. Brig is becoming more and more concerned.”

      “It’s not like them,” Natalie agreed. She cast another knowing look at the kitchen archway, her brow furrowed. “Now that you bring it up, I’m worried, too. Days, you said?”

      Molly nodded. “I wonder who else might be in on their plans.”

      Natalie thought for a moment, then ticked off half a dozen names that Molly didn’t recognize. Her usual contacts—the day care parents and her friends—were a lot younger than Pop or Miss Brewster or the Colliers.

      “Let me see what I can find out,” Natalie offered.

      “Maybe you could give me their numbers, and I’ll call. That would save you the trouble.” But Natalie was having none of that.

      “I left my phone on the charger at home, so I don’t have any numbers handy, but I’d be happy to let my fingers do the walking later,” she said with a gleaming, white-toothed smile. “Then I can come by to tell you what I’ve found.”

      And have another excuse to see Molly’s father?

      “Why not just call instead? It would save you a trip.”

      “Nonsense. I only live across the street.” With a last, jaundiced glance toward the rear of the house, Natalie put a hand on the doorknob. “I’ll be back,” she said, as if it was a threat. “Once I set myself a task, I don’t waver.”

      Molly did, though. Well, Pop would simply have to deal with his admirer when the time came. As she shut the door behind Natalie Brewster, she decided he was on his own—just as she’d teased Brig the other night.

      And her thoughts returned to him.

      Their time inside the darkened center, even with the baby between them and a bathing ritual for distraction, had been hard enough. Molly groaned. And unfortunately she’d already promised to start those lessons in infant care for Brig tonight.

      * * *

      “OH, BABY, IT’S all right.” Late that afternoon in the nursery Molly cradled little Ashley Jones to her chest, whispering words of comfort. They were for herself, too. She was trying not to think about a classroom accident earlier involving Debbie Crandall’s child and Ernie Barlow, and Molly’s spirit always ached whenever one of her charges felt unhappy or unwell. “It’s no fun cutting that tooth, is it?” she told Ashley. “But it will be over soon, you’ll see. And you’ll have a grand new way of dealing with the world.” She was about to comment on Ashley having her first solid food when Ann walked into the room.

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